Omniscience Winks
The urn is tipped,
scattered ash enjoins jet-stream,
jetsam, flotsam atop the winds and currents,
Nature's gathering knowing not yet
the next evolution of life's decay.
Possibility awakens,
arresting consciousness beyond our own
a departure from the One actuality
into the reformation of Another,
molecular iteration begun decades earlier,
now roaming carefree among other airborne particles,
innocent stowaways enfolded in winged flights
or ocean-saturated drifting bobbing patiently,
awaiting new beginnings.
As the journey continues,
feathers,
seaweed,
plastic cups and bottles
provide passage shore-ward,
skyward,
forward.
A measureless journey this,
where desired or not,
matter exists forever,
ash continues as yesterday's index
referring to tomorrow's pages of wisdom.
Scattered ashes,
once of flesh and blood,
now return to the vortex of cosmic chance,
where fresh finger-paints of infancy
become infinity's next masterpiece.
To mourn or not to mourn?
Omniscience winks.
Love ya!
Jane
To those who believe they are masters of their universe, Omniscience winks.
Ron